


Shotgun

by sleepytime



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Discussion of Abortion, Implied Mpreg, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, adding characters as story goes, adding ship as story goes, everyone is finding love except Doyoung?, i suck at summaries, this is fluff despite all these tags?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:07:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25654126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepytime/pseuds/sleepytime
Summary: Doyoung runs a wedding boutique.  Jaehyun is the young bartender he met at a party. And life is a juggling act that Doyoung does not know how to handle, especially when love, work, insecurity and other bundles of joy all fight with each other for more of his time.
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Qian Kun, Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Nakamoto Yuta, Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung
Comments: 2
Kudos: 48





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Did I just start a new fic before my previous one is finished :o) Anyway I hope you'll enjoy this (a consequence of my hand-slip i guess) ^^

It’s Taeyong’s post-wedding party.

“Speaking of hair, it reminds me of a dad joke,” starts Yuta, as he assists the waiter to pass the drinks to everyone by the table, “so, once upon a time, there are some eggs in a supermarket. One of the eggs notices the egg on the other end is bizarre-looking. He whispers to the egg next to him: _hey, the egg at the end is growing hair._ That egg passes the message onto the next egg and so on, until it reaches the second last egg. The second last egg then turns his head and take a peek of the last egg.”

“And then?” Sicheng asks. No one by the table is paying attention to the joke except him.

Doyoung does not even bother to divert his gaze from his phone. He is stuck at Level 70 of Candy Crush for god-knows-how-long.

“That last egg can only reply helplessly: _I’m not an egg. I’m a kiwi,”_ Yuta completes the joke.

Just as Doyoung expects, the table reduces into an awkward silence, until Sicheng leans on Yuta’s shoulder and giggles, “Moron.”

“Gees, you must love him a lot,” Ten shakes his head, pointing at Sicheng, “You are the only one on Earth that still finds these trashy jokes funny after all these gruelling years, no wonder you guys are getting married.”

“I’m laughing just because I can’t stand him,” Sicheng chuckles, shaking Yuta’s arm.

“My babe has a sense of humour and you guys don’t,” Yuta jests.

“Why would eggs and kiwis be next to each other in a supermarket though?” Doyoung challenges, noticing that the waiter is returning to their table _again_ to refill their cups. A bit too soon, Doyoung supposes.

“Must be done by people who want to force a joke about that,” Sicheng rubs salt into the wound.

Snickers are heard from everyone on the table (except Yuta), and, to Doyoung’s surprise, the waiter chimes in, “Serve you right, Nakamoto Yuta, you need friends to explicitly point out how unfunny your jokes are.”

“Oh, you know each other?” asks Kun, surprised.

“He’s my cousin,” Yuta acknowledges, placing his arm on the waiter’s shoulder, “Jung Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun’s hand sends off a nervous wave. Everyone returns the gesture, including Doyoung, but he swiftly shifts his focus back to his phone, wilfully ignoring Jaehyun’s gaze that fixates on him.

“He will be my best man for our wedding,” Yuta explains, squeezing the meaty part of the Jaehyun’s shoulder.

“The hell?” Jaehyun brawls with a boisterous laugh, eyes still locked on Doyoung, “why didn’t I know about that?”

“I’m officially asking you now,” Yuta teases.

“Well, I’m ready to say yes, even though I think you should kneel and beg me for this, cause we all know you are friendless, and that means you have no choice,” Jaehyun sasses before he turns away, “anyway, gotta serve other tables now, bye for now.”

“Your cousin is funny,” Sicheng compliments.

“But you just said I’m the funniest man a while ago,” Yuta pouts his lips.

Sicheng pinches Yuta’s cheek, and everyone else by the table instantly choruses “ _EWWWW_ …”

“Such a hard crowd to please, ugh,” Sicheng jokes, “well, unlike my dumb fiance, I’ll now hereby officially ask you guys. Can you guys all be my groomsmen?”

“Of course!” Ten exclaims.

“My dearest Kim Doyoung," Sicheng mutters as he leans on Doyoung, "you will be my best man, right?”

“ _Shhhh_ …. _Dong Sicheng_ ,” Doyoung shushes, finally engaging into the conversation, “yes, but don’t scream my full name here, okay?”

“Sorry~,” Sicheng half-heartedly apologises, sitting straight again, “I’ll just rent my tuxedo from your shop then. Taeyong’s tuxedo tonight is also from your shop, right? Looks super nice. ”

“Yeah.”

“He must have rented more than one then,” Sicheng reckons, flipping through some of the photos on his phone taken earlier today, “It’s the first time I see someone featuring costume-change in a wedding.”

“He rented eight, actually.”

“God. How much is that?”

“I’m afraid I’m not in a very good position to tell that,” Doyoung laughs.

“Don't worry babe,” Yuta pinches Sicheng’s cheek back, "You’ll look good in whatever you wear."

“For the last time,” Ten grimaces, “ _please_ refrain from PDA ever again. Argh. by the way, where will you guys live after getting married?”

“We’re still choosing between Apgujeong and Cheongdam,” Sicheng replies, “they both seem to be rather nice neighbourhoods, with good schools nearby.”

Doyoung gradually spaces out from the conversation. He is single, if not, single as fuck; none of these concerns really resonate with him. More and more of his attention is funnelled into plotting the next step for his Candy Crush game. He is running out of steps, and he absolutely dreads restarting this round again.

“Oh, _of course_ they are, they are where the rich lives,” Kun jests, “you two must be richer than I think.”

“Well, we’ve been saving money since we got together in high school.” Yuta reveals, “and, to start with, we are very thrifty people…I guess? I mean, we always think if it’s really necessary before buying anything.”

Doyoung is not listening at all by now. He bites his fingernails, calculating if he should move the blue round candy at the corner or the green squared one at the centre.

To his shock, a finger from behind does a flick on his screen and completes this round for him. Startled, he flips his head around, and there he sees Jaehyun, who proceeds to collect empty glasses on the gang’s table with a smirk as if nothing just happened.

“What about kids then?” Ten asks eagerly.

“Not that fast, I guess,” Yuta admits, “you know, everything is expensive. I assume you did watch Sky Castle, right? It’s not just about putting bread on the table for your kids. School fees, especially the good ones, are crazily high. And then you have to pay classes for extra-curricular activities, study tours, blah-blah-blah.”

“Yeah. To hold a wedding is not cheap either.” Sicheng adds, intertwining his arm with Yuta’s, “I mean, we are no Taeyong. Hahaha. Perhaps I can’t afford costume change, but seeing him walking down the aisle…, you know, makes me kinda teary, and wishes that my wedding would come sooner.”

“Yeah…,” Ten props his chin on his hand, facing his boyfriend Kun, “It’s nice to get married soon …”

A moment of silence follows. Everyone by the table, including Doyoung, stares at Kun with smug, knowing what Ten is implying.

“ _Uh uh uh_ , Doyoung,” Kun interrupts with noticeable panic, reckoning that he needs something to divert the attention, “how’re you and Jinyoung recently?”

“OH RIGHT! Jinyoung can be our groomsman too!” Yuta exclaims, just as Doyoung darts his eyes away.

Instantly the table is filled with silence, except clinking sounds from the beer glasses moved by Jaehyun, who is wandering by the table _again_ , refilling beer.

It’s a topic that both Sicheng and Ten pray no one would bring up. The two put their heads down — an act that their boyfriends do not understand at first.

“We broke up, for long, actually. A year to be precise,” Doyoung soothes genuinely, “but _hey_. It’s fine. It’s been so long, yeah. Everything’s fine.”

“Well, if everything’s fine, shouldn’t we toast to that?” Jaehyun breaks in, holding a glass by his hand, “CHEERS!”

“CHEERS!” Everyone by the table choruses again with their glasses clinking with each other.

Doyoung squints at Jaehyun with a wheeze, partially caught off-guard by his sudden (and _very contrived_ ) interjection on the one hand, yet also slightly impressed by how he interweaves himself smoothly into the gang. Jaehyun quickly reciprocates the gaze, something that immediately causes Doyoung to dart his eyes away in an unexplainable panic.

The party goes on, but time seems to move faster with live band music playing at the back —More lame jokes from Yuta, more awkward pauses directed to Kun, and, unsurprisingly, more alcohol.

Doyoung finds himself searching for Jaehyun after a while with no refills by him. He flips his head around, and, to his delight, finds out Jaehyun is also the drummer of the live band. Even better, he catches Jaehyun laying on him already, boldly.

His eyes merrily wander away, allowing Jaehyun’s blatant stare on him. He silently inhales and exhales, as if there was liquid adrenaline being injected right into his bloodstream — not so strong that freaks him out, but adequate that gives him the courage to drink over his usual limit.

Each drink seems to be a better and better idea. Yuta’s lame joke gets funnier, and Doyoung himself becomes an epic comedian. He feels gorgeous, witty, and cool. He takes off his suit jacket and loosens his tie a little, rumpling his hand through his hair; head frequently turning around to check on Jaehyun. He is sure Jaehyun’s eyes are constantly glued on him, and that feels weirdly amazing.

Yuta and Sicheng finally decide to call it a night after countless more Tequilla shots, Ten and Kun also follow. Doyoung does not want to stay behind alone, and he joins the gang.

Yuta waves at Jaehyun, who is still playing the drums before leaving. Jaehyun simply gives out a mild nod. There was a sense of reluctance inside Doyoung’s heart to end the night just like that as he proceeds to the exit with his friends. Yet, he doesn’t seem to have a choice, with all of his friends clearly very intoxicated, supporting each other with arms around waists with sloppy steps.

Sicheng has to be the drunkest among the bunch. The hugs he give before getting on his taxi feel like a corset for Doyoung. Ten and Kun soon also leave, with only Doyoung remain by the crossroad, waiting for yet another taxi.

It is a freezing night with drizzles. The smoke from the pub inside billows out into the bitter wintery air. Even with his suit jacket back on, Doyoung cannot help but shivers. He wanders back and forth, unsure what to do, until he sees a familiar figure.

“Cousin?” Doyoung slurs, pointing at Jaehyun with an eerie smile.

“Uh…, Yeah,” Jaehyun murmurs as he reaches out to place a gentle hand on Doyoung’s wrist, pulling Doyoung to the inner side of the pedestrian walk, “I saw you wobbling by the edge off the road, be careful.”

“Aww, how considerate of you,” Doyoung flushes, the eerie smile is still on him.

“Your hands are exceptionally cold,” Jaehyun takes off his scarf and wraps it around Doyoung’s neck.

“That means I need warmth,” Doyoung places his own hand over Jaehyun’s and squeezes.

Jaehyun can only blink until his courage kicks in. He grabs Doyoung’s hand and presses it against his own check, an act that causes himself to stiffen and blush. He casts his eyes to the floor and finds out their other hands are still tightly linked.

“Perhaps I should send you back home,” Jaehyun breaks the silence.

Doyoung is prepared to nod, but something crazy takes hold of him. “Bring me back to your home.”

“Huh?”

“Oh, taxi!” Doyoung squirms, dragging Jaehyun into the automobile.

-

It is a quiet ride; Doyoung glances at Jaehyun multiple times, with a grin on his face. Nothing verbal is exchanged between the two, and Jaehyun is clearly nervous.

“Sorry, sorry, do you mind shutting the window tight,” the taxi driver requests, pointing at the passenger window atDoyoung’s side, “the rain creeps in, and it’s super cold.”

“Sure,” Jaehyun instantly yanks up his body and reaches to the door by Doyoung’s side, almost turning 180. It was an awkward position, and Jaehyun finds himself facing Doyoung, hovering above him, with one hand splaying on the backseat bench to steady himself.

For a moment, it is not easy to move, and Doyoung would be lying if he says he does not enjoy Jaehyun’s facial proximity. Jaehyun’s breath puffs warm on his face amidst the bitter air around them and, soon, to his joy, he can feel Jaehyun pressing a kiss to his forehead.

It can be nothing but tingly; Doyoung finally looks up, interchanging his gaze back and forth between Jaehyun’s eyes and lips, unsure why should he hesitate anymore. He tugs Jaehyun towards him, dragging Jaehyun’s head down to capture his lips with his.

It’s an odd sensation to have something in arms and to be yearning for it still. Doyoung moans openly in Jaehyun’s mouth, hand scrambling for a grip on those broad shoulders.He can feel the heat radiating from Jaehyun’s body, and Jaehyun’s fingers also grip hard into his skin, craving more.

Even Jaehyun finds it amazing how they remain fully clothed until they reach his own apartment. 

With the front door locked every pretence falls. The facade melts away and all they want is each other. Doyoung falls gracefully on the sofa next to Jaehyun and sinks into the cushion. He goes to sit up straight, and quickly pins Jaehyun down.

“Okay, but first, are…are you sure?” asks Jaehyun.

“Just shut up and kiss me.”

-

“That’s…,” Doyoung pants, lying down, still in a haze, “That’s amazing.”

“Yeah…,” Jaehyun lies next to him, hugging Doyoung’s body frame closer to him.

Jaehyun wraps his arms around Doyoung’s torso. In seconds Doyoung’s body is moulded to his own, and Jaehyun has never felt the need to never let go of someone. It feels like a gentle touch of heaven, warm, cosy.

There comes a long, tender period of silence, with only mild breathing sounds are heard.

“Do you want to switch to the bed?” Jaehyun proposes, brushing a strand of Doyoung's dark hair, “The sofa feels a bit too small for bot—”

The low breathing sounds of Doyoung interject the sentence, and Jaehyun can only wheeze — it’s probably too late. After landing a peck on Doyoung's cheek, Jaehyun’s eyes also slip closed. 

* * *

Doyoung wakes up to soft sheets, morning light trickles in through the blinds, and the sound of someone showering in another room. He blinks, closes his eyes, and blinks again; until the weird mix of unease and embarrassment finally kicks in.

“God…”

It is at this moment the showering noises stop. Immediately, Doyoung pulls up the blanket to bury his face. Dozens of scenarios run rampage in Doyoung’s mind. Should he just uncover the sheet and say good morning? Should he keep on acting he’s sleeping?

The footsteps clearly mean Jaehyun is walking towards the sofa. Doyoung can feel the blanket on his left foot being undraped. There is an instant crave to retract his legs, if only that were not a dead giveaway. Nothing makes sense to Doyoung, until he feels a piece of sticky plastic being placed on his heel.

It is that moment that Doyoung finally understands — Jaehyun is applying band-aids on his heel blisters. It can be nothing but a warm gesture, but that only deepens Doyoung’s uncertainty as to what to do next.

His deafening morning alarm on his phone, however, is happy to decide for him. Doyoung reluctantly uncovers his face from the blanket, as if he has just woken up.

“Good morning,” Jaehyun smiles, fully clothed with a damp towel on his head.

“… Good morning,” Doyoung mumbles. He sits up straight, enveloping himself with the blanket. “Where… where is the washroom?”

“To your right,” Jaehyun explains.

“You… live alone?”

“My flatmate is not here today. Just take your time.”

Doyoung stands up straight, with the blanket still tightly draped around his body. He treads around the sofa, apparently looking for his clothes.

“Below the sofa,” Jaehyun mutters, noticing that Doyoung is waddling back and forth.

Doyoung bends down to retrieve his underwear, swallowing the awkwardness. He proceeds to collect other pieces of clothing, except his tie is also nowhere to be found.

“Also below the sofa,” Jaehyun provides, making sure his voice sounds as nonchalant as possible.

The awkward silence resumes, Doyoung decides to end it with mercy by rushing into the washroom and gets dressed. He combs his hair with his fingers, until knocks on the door are heard.

“Yes?” asks Doyoung as he pulls up his tie.

“Um, uhh… how about, you know, we get together…”

It is a sobering question, one that widens Doyoung’s eyes. He turns around to open the door, and there he sees Jaehyun leaning against the door frame.

“I mean, …for breakfast,” Jaehyun gulps, making a futile attempt to deflect his original intention.

“Thanks, I’m not hungry.”

Doyoung leaves the bathroom, and instantly he feels the iciness from Jaehyun’s fingers on his neck.

“Your collar stood up,” explains Jaehyun, as his fixes the older’s collar.

“Oh…, thank you,” Doyoung sputters.

There remains no exchange of words. Jaehyun switches his position to face Doyoung, fixing the latter’s tie — a strangely intimate position, one that Doyoung will forever deny he actually savours.

‘Thanks..,” Doyoung utters, “I… I gotta go. Time for work.”

“Let’s keep in touch?” Jaehyun attempts, seeing that Doyoung is heading to the front door without any more words.

“We’ll see.”  


-

Doyoung goes straight to his boutique, and is immediately greeted by Jungwoo’s knowing smirk.

“Hon, I know the suit looks nice, but is it SO nice that you gotta put that on for two consecutive days?” Jungwoo jests, “Where’ve you been? Didn’t go home huh?”

“I would like to be excluded from this narrative.”

“Tsk.”

“Gotta get changed now,” Doyoung closes the curtains of the fitting room behind him. He turns his head back to take a look at the band-aid on his heel blister before he allows a wry smile and tears it off.

* * *

Doyoung cannot think of any other ways to calm the shock inside him other than aimlessly wandering in his apartment. He turns on the light in the living room, only to see it flickers.

“Great, everything goes as planned,” he grunts. 

He wants to kill whoever had termed it 'morning sickness.' It felt way worse than a hangover — nauseous and liable to vomit at the slightest shudder of his body. He cannot even do laundry without the smell of bleach, making him wretch and heave. And the nausea, once kicks in, lasts all day. It was worse than flu, at least with the flu it would be over in a few days.

He stares at the double red lines on the pregnancy testing kit. This could go on for another seven months. How could something so natural sends him waves of sickness?

“Okay…," He lumbers to the landline, holding the headset and murmurs to himself, "Rehearse this first, Kim Doyoung. Practice makes perfect."

“Hi, mum. I’m pregnant. _Oh god no this doesn’t feel right._ ”  
“Hello, mum? Yeah, How are you these days? Me? Oh, I’m pregnant. _Argh no._ ”  
“Is Vancouver cold this winter? Yeah, Seoul is cold too, and I’m pregnant. _Fuckfuckfuckfuck. No. Kim Doyoung. No._ ”

It takes Doyoung 15 more minutes of practice before he finally dials the call.

“Please don’t pick up please don’t up…”

The ring feels forever, and the longer it is, the more Doyoung regrets making the call.

_“Hello?”_

Doyoung immediately hangs up, as if his mother’s voice is the source of all his panic attacks. He gives himself a big facepalm, and the phone rings again.

“...Hi,” greets Doyoung, knowing that it can be no one but his mother.

“Did you just call and hang up?” Doyoung’s mother starts, obviously groggy, "It's 3 am here."

“Er…, yeah,” Doyoung stutters, “I got a wrong number, sorry.”

“You dialled a wrong number for a long-distance call…?” The woman wonders, a huge yawn is then heard.

“I mean, I forgot about the time difference, that’s why I called haha.” Doyoung frets, over-explaining himself to cover his panic, “Just trying to see how are you doing these days, yeah."

“Well… nothing really noteworthy happened recently if you ask me,” the woman recounts, “we did think about revamping the kitchen…”

Doyoung starts to space out. His mum’s description of other mundane events also gradually fades out from his ears, until the cries of a baby are heard.

"Oh god she woke up," the woman nags.

“Is that.. is that my niece?" Doyoung guesses, surprised by the loudness, "Her cry's kinda intense.”

“Yeah, your brother’s baby girl cries like there’s no tomorrow, just like when you are a baby,” the woman complains, albeit in an endearing tone, “god she doesn’t go back to sleep once she wakes up. _Oh baby don’t you cry…_ _I_ _'m here darling... I'm here darling._ ”

The crying becomes more fractious, and Doyoung’s mum does not stop her baby-talk, gradually getting distracted from the call.

“Mum…?”

“Yeah? I’m listening. _Oh baby don’t you cry…_ ”

“Mum?”

“Just say what you want to.… _Grandma is here, baby girl darling…_ ”

“Um…,” Doyoung hesitates, the courage is far from being mustered. The crying from the other side of his phone also does not seem to have died down at all, “Just that I’m…”

“You’re _what_?”

“I’m just asking if you guys are coming back to Korea, yeah.” Doyoung almost wants to punch himself.

“We are not sure yet. Tickets are so pricey these days. _Oh baby…grandma is here_ ,” Doyoung’s mother answers, “Doie, don’t you need to sleep?”

“It’s just 7 pm here,” Doyoung explains, hearing the toy box playing lullabies from the other side.

“Oh right, time difference, sorry.”

“Mum…”

“Oh god, even the toy box doesn’t work, perhaps she’s hungry, can I call you later?”

“…Sure.”

“Seoul’s cold one day and hot the next now. Put on more clothes, okay? Don’t catch a cold, honey. I’ll talk to you later. Bye babe."

The line is instantly hung up. Doyoung eyes at the headset, and puts it down with a sigh.

* * *

Doyoung wakes up as soon as the sun peeks through the window, and the nausea kicks in again. He has the strongest urge to just lie on his bed and call it a day, yet he has a boutique to run, and also something to return. He is now standing in from the pub where the post-wedding drink was held, taking a deep breath before he lurches in.

“Sorry, we are not open yet,” one of the staff reminds Doyoung, “it’s just 11 am, sir.”

“I know. I’m here to…”

“He’s here to find me,” Jaehyun interjects, cleaning the bar front with a towel, “he’s… my friend.”

Doyoung nips over to bar with noticeable hesitation, not noticing Jaehyun’s uplifting tone in his voice. “I thought you don’t want to meet me again. It’s been a while.”

“Yup…, it’s been 2 months.”

“Yeah…, 2 months，” Jaehyun recounts, “time flies faster than I imagine.”

“Yeah…, so he or she is technically also 2 months old.”

Silence ensues, until Jaehyun stands up straight with widened eyes.

“WHAT?”

“I’m pregnant,” Doyoung answers hastily as if babbling could diminish the truthfulness of what he just said.

Jaehyun blinks and blinks again, visibly trying to digest what he has just heard. “What... what should we do next?”

“I’m seeing my doctor tomorrow.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“…Actually,” Doyoung digresses, “how old are you?”

“21,” answers Jaehyun, nonchalantly.

“But I’m 26,” Doyoung stresses on the last numerical digit, “almost 27.”

“So? Does it matter?” Jaehyun shrugs, permitting himself a bight beam.

“It does not, because _this_ ,” Doyoung points to his belly as he plasters a fake smile, tone as firm as one can perceive, “is not your matter, but mine. I’ll handle it. It’s none of your business.”

“… If you don’t want to include me in this matter, which, _fine_ , _okay_ ,” Jaehyun crosses his arms, “Then why are you here?”

“Oh…right, yes,” Doyoung takes off the checked scarf on his neck, “Just to return this to you. I happen to visit somewhere nearby.”

“… Thanks.” Jaehyun pets the long scarf as if there’s still some warmth from Doyoung. He stares at the garment and back to Doyoung; another silence then ensues until Doyoung blurts out:-

“I just want to make this clear, that..”

“…was not the usual you?” Jaehyun continues the sentence with a helpless smirk, “Neither was I. Never happened.”

“So usually you use protection?” Doyoung quips, eyebrows raised.

“More like usually I do not... hook up?” Jaehyun drawls out slowly, leaning in, “that’s why I don’t have any with me at that time.”

“But _bruh_ , having condoms at all times is a civil responsibility,” The staff at the entrance suddenly chimes in from behind. Doyoung immediately facepalms and shrinks himself.

Jaehyun can only mouths “ _FUCK OFF”_ to shoo the waiter away. He turns back to Doyoung, and there he sees him taking out a piece of bubble gum to chew.

“Is that the classic mint-flavoured one?” asks Jaehyun.

“Yeah, you want some?"

“I don’t eat mint stuff.” Jaehyun shakes his head.

“Why?” Doyoung narrows his eyes.

“Mint lowers sperm productivity.”

“Then probs you should have some bruh,” the staff behind interjects again.

“Is that your _fucking_ business?” Jaehyun scoffs, hurling his scarf to the waiter.

He turns his head to Doyoung, who is obviously mortified, body frozen and unable to hide the awkwardness he felt.

“I…uh,” Jaehyun stutters, “I’m sorry for my colleague. It shouldn’t be his business — apparently.”

“It shouldn’t be yours either,” Doyoung assures again, almost emotionless. “I’ll take care of it.”

“I mean,” for a while, Jaehyun cannot construct a full sentence. He sends a heavy sigh, head looking down as he wraps his arms around himself before he continues, “If you say so, what else I can add then?”

Doyoung cannot offer an answer. He bites his lip and is prepared to turn away and leave.

“When’s your appointment tomorrow?” Jaehyun starts. 

“3?”

“I’ll be there tomorrow.”

“You don’t even know which doctor I’m seeing,” Doyoung quips.

“But I know where you work; I’ll pick you up.”

“I… I, as I said, it’s not your…, argh, ” Doyoung babbles, “whatever. See you.”

“See you,” Jaehyun smiles, dimples showing — and Doyoung hates admitting that they do make Jaehyun look cuter than he already is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deliberately choosing Jinyoung as Doyoung's ex bc they look cute together in Inkigayo heehee :D  
> Anyway, thank you for reading and comments are loved ^^ Will beta and update soon.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heehee finally have the time to update T.T

“Welcome,” Doyoung greets the customer with Jungwoo, “do you… have a reservation?”

“Not really…” The customer peers around before he continues, “I just happen to live nearby, and I am looking for a wedding suit. No, wait, two wedding suits. My fiancé also needs one.”

“Oh, sure!” Doyoung takes a swift peek at the customer before turning to the pile of tuxedos behind him. “Are you looking for ones with a classic design? or a contemporary design?”

“I don’t have a concrete idea, to be honest, I think… my fiancé will look good in whatever he wears, the problem lies in me,” the customer leaks a peel of nervous laughter.

“Oh, don’t say that!”

“No… I mean, I’m pregnant — for 3 months. And we are getting married in another 3 months, so I guess not every design will fit me by the time of our wedding.”

It takes a noticeable pause before Doyoung unfreezes himself, and Jungwoo’s voice takes up the void. “Oh I see…, then I think these won’t suit you, cause they could be quite restricting,” Jungwoo points to the aisle of suits with waistcoats.

Doyoung proceeds to take out another suit from the next aisle after the pause, “We have many other styles, like, this one, it’s made of wool and cashmere, so it’s more stretchy.”

“This does look good,” the customer smiles, brushing the fabric with his hands, “and feels good too.”

“The cutting is also excellent,” Jungwoo adds, “No one’s gonna find out how long have you been pregnant. Don’t worry.”

A short silence follows. Doyoung turns to Jungwoo, unsure if what he said is entirely proper.

“Perhaps I should go check if our lunch delivery has here yet,” Jungwoo gulps, ready to walk to the front door.

“It’s okay,” the customer soothes with a grin, “Everyone knows we are having a baby. My fiancé and I have been together for … wow, 8 years. Perhaps we just need an extra kick for us to walk down the aisle.”

“That’s nice to hear,” Doyoung leans forward, “Umm… Do you want to try this on?”

“I think I’d come with my husband again for this. Can I take a picture of that first? I want to see whether Johnny, I mean, my fiancé, likes it.”

“Sure!” says Doyoung as he raises the suit for easier photo-taking, “Can I have your name and number? Just in case you are really opting for this, I can reserve this for you first.”

“Oh, how nice of you!” The customer tucks his phone back to his pocket, “Name’s Moon Taeil.”

-

The lunch takeaway tastes bland as ever, Doyoung takes a small bite — a contrast from Jungwoo, next to him, who doesn’t seem to care about the blandness.

“I’m not gonna be here this afternoon,” Doyoung reminds, “got some… stuff to do.”

“Okie,” Jungwoo smiles, chugging a large mouthful of rice.

Doyoung pushes the rice to the corner, and the nausea emerges once again. It takes all the strength in his body to hold the repulsion, but the retch was still audible to Jungwoo.

“Gee, are you also pregnant or what?” Jungwoo teases, emitting an audible snicker — until he notices Doyoung’s darting eyes. The longer the silence, the more apparent the answer has become, and the higher Jungwoo’s eyebrows have raised, so high up that they altogether disappear in his fringe.

“…Yes.”

“OH MY GOD!” Jungwoo shrieks as he jumps from his seat, offering a vigorous, pumping handshake. “Congratulations! Are you getting married then? You’ll use the gowns here, won’t you? Do you want me to be your groomsman? You should choose one tux now or else it’s gonna be so troublesome when your bump shows.”

“I’m thinking about… not having it,” Doyoung swallows.

“Oh, that’s an option to of course,” Jungwoo adds, sitting back down, “my friend said it’s not a complicated procedure. So you and your boyfriend have discussed this?”

“…”

“Wait. You do have a boyfriend, don’t you?”

It is at this moment Doyoung’s phone rings, offering Doyoung a needed breakq from this intensely awkward silence. He takes his phone out, but the name of the caller simply extends the awkwardness.

“Who’s Jaehyunnie?” Jungwoo asks, his face comes with a mask of mock surprise, “Oh my god his name comes with a heart next to it, boyfriend?”

Doyoung immediately storms off the boutique to pick up the call.

“How come you have my phone number?”

“You asked me?” Jaehyun answers joyously through the phone.

“But… how come your contact is saved on my phone?” Doyoung exclaims, “like… not even with me knowing?”

“Again, you asked me?” Jaehyun repeats.

“I asked you to?” Doyoung asks quizzically, “When?”

“At that… that time?” Jaehyun answers through the phone as he appears in front of Doyoung. He smirks, and ends the call. “Do you think there’s another time?”

“I’m… going to delete it, and you have to delete yours too,” Doyoung demands, ignoring how Jaehyun’s smirk is infuriatingly hot, and also that every single second of the memory floods him again.

“Why?” Jaehyun’s smirk just deepens, gradually developing into a gleeful laugh.

“Cause we are not supposed to know each other?” Doyoung blusters a little, prickling up defensively, “I’m just your cousin’s husband’s best friend. Like, we should be unrelated, entirely.”

“Errr… not really?” Jaehyun ponders aloud, gently gesturing Doyoung to start walking, “we are both best men of an upcoming wedding?”

“…I’ll give you that.” Doyoung concedes.

“So that means I need your phone number,” Jaehyun answers affirmatively.

“…” Doyoung is too exhuasted to fret on this topic.

“Where is the clinic?” Jaehyun interjects.

“…Gangnam.”

“Across the Han river?” Jaehyun casually inquires, until he notices Doyoung’s steps wobble more than one sober person should. He stops his walk and fixes his stare on Doyoung’s heels, and there he sees the blisters on Doyoung’s heels again.

“Yeah,” Doyoung confirms, halting his steps as he notices that Jaehyun is behind him, “you know, can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Jaehyun jogs a little to catch up with Doyoung.

“Are you in college?”

Jaehyun blinks once, speed slower usual. “Yes. Final year.”

“So no school today?” Doyoung adds, stepping carefully to avoid his heel rubbing against the rough edges of his shoes further.

“Day-off.”

“There’re day offs?”

“Good timetabling helps.”

“No work today?”

“Nighttime job,” Jaehyun answers lowly as he steals another glance of Doyoung’s gradually wobbling steps.

“Oh right,” Doyoung mentally knocks his forehead asking a dumb question. “What’s your major?”

“Engineering,” Jaehyun reveals.

“So you do construction work?” Doyoung questions casually.

“No…!?” Jaehyun laughs, baffled by Doyoung’s inference, “I specialise in Geotechnical Engineering and Energy Management.”

“What… even is that?” Doyoung tilts his head to look at Jaehyun, eyebrows furrowed.

“That’s exactly why I said Engineering,” Jaehyun explains.

Doyoung straightens his lips into one thin line and offers no verbal response. He is prepared to cross the road, head turned to face the front again, until a tight grip clasping his elbow pulls him back.

“Watch out,” Jaehyun cuts in, “Don’t cross the road between parked cars next time. It’s dangerous cause you can't see traffic as easily and drivers can't see you.”

“I know how to cross the road,” Doyoung defends, “and I do see that car coming forward.”

“Just be careful, okay?” Jaehyun assures with a soft grin as he sticks out his arm for a forthcoming taxi on the road.

“Why are we taking a taxi?” Doyoung questions, looking slightly panicked as the taxi starts slowing down, “We can get there by bus.”

“It’s okay, I’ll pay.”

“Pay?” Doyoung grunts, “Do you know how hard is it to make money? How much are you getting paid at the bar?”

“Not much,” Jaehyun concedes as he opens the taxi door, “but your feet hurt.”

“…They do,” Doyoung hesitates, looking endearing distraught, “ _argh_ , I’ll pay for this.”

* * *

The clinic space is almost too neat to Doyoung’s liking.

He lounges on the medical bed, secretly wishing the lubricating jelly on his belly didn’t feel unpleasantly cold. The doctor gently rubs the transducer on his skin, and everyone’s eyes are locked on the screen — until Jaehyun chooses to ignore the inquisitive stares from the doctor and moves so close to the screen that Doyoung thinks he is sniffing it.

“He is my…my _cousin_ ,” Doyoung elbows Jaehyun harshly as he contrives a fake smile to the doctor.

“Yeah, _cousin_ ,” Jaehyun’s wry gaze flick back to Doyoung, “The father does not want to come, so I came.”

“…Can you move your face away from the screen?” Doyoung questions with a mix of amusement and embarrassment. “The doctor cannot see the ultrasound. Actually, no one can.”

“...Of course.”

“Thank you,” says the doctor.

Everyone in the room shifts their attention back to the screen again. Doyoung cranes his head, noticing nothing but only the tiny, monochromatic, barely-moving image on the screen, and the weirdest feeling grows in his heart — that this ultrasound was the only outward sign that something so foreign yet innate had begun within him.

Hardly can he channel his attention to anything else happening around him, until an audible _click_ could be heard. Doyoung turns to the source of the sound, and there he sees Jaehyun taking photos of the ultrasound with his phone.

“Cousin, just… what on earth are you doing?” Doyoung cringes, shooting another harsh glare from the corner of his eyes.

“Well, _cousin_ ,” Jaehyun protests, still holding out his phone taking pictures of the ultrasound, “it’s my first I have ever seen this.”

“Well...” Doyoung gulps, hating how he has to do a verbal U-turn, “Same here. Can you send me a copy?”

“I will send a copy to you,” the doctor supplies, almost emotionless.

“Oh…, thanks!” Doyoung answers, voice unnaturally cheerful to compensate the awkwardness that he felt, “you know, doctor, just coincidentally, can I also ask, like, if I’m going to keep vomiting? I always feel kinda nauseous no matter what I do.”

“Don’t worry, Mr Kim, emesis is very common during the first trimester,” the doctor soothes, “rest as much as you can and eat something like a plain biscuit or dry toast before you get out of bed.”

“Okay. Got it. I’ll try.”

“Also, don’t give yourself too much pressure. That would be beneficial to you, your baby, and, you know, _cousin_.”

The change of atmosphere in the room is immediate and, to Doyoung, mortifying. Jaehyun stifles his giggles, but immediately fails and leaks a loud peel of laughter. Doyoung glares at Jaehyun with all of the intensity he can muster, but none changes the fact that the cousin facade is obviously torn.

“Any more questions?” The doctor asks, ending the awkward silence with mercy.

“Cousin,” starts Doyoung, almost muttering, “do you mind if I have a moment with the doctor alone?”

“…Sure,” Jaehyun leaves the room. He sits by the bench outside the room, gaze locked unwaveringly on the screen, until he makes a decision and takes a mad dash to the clinic exit.

-

It takes Doyoung another 20 minutes before he leaves the consultation room. Simply are there too many questions to ask about his current condition and what steps should he do next.

“Your booking will be at 11am, on the Wednesday after next. Please arrive an hour early for preparation. Do not eat up to eight hours before surgery. You will be able to leave two hours after that,” the nurse informs by the counter.

“Thank you,” Doyoung acknowledges simply.

He turns to his right, and there he sees Jaehyun from afar, holding a pair of sneakers on his hands.

“For you,” Jaehyun explains, “another trip in your shoes will definitely hurt.”

What Jaehyun bought can only be described as weird-looking at best. Doyoung gawks hard at the lime green florescent shoelaces, not ready to accept or reject the kind offer, until the sharp, biting pain on his heels urge him to take his own leather shoes off at once.

“Where did you find such a… unique design?” asks Doyoung as he reluctantly allows himself to put on the sneakers.

“Do they fit?”

“Yeah, but… I don’t even know lime green and purple coloured shoes exist, except for Buzz Lightyear.”

“Better than hurting your heels, you know. You shouldn’t always wear shoes that are one size smaller.”

“Those salespeople said smaller shoes make my legs look longer,” Doyoung defends himself, “And the more you wear them eventually…”

“ _they’ll get comfier, right_?” Jaehyun finishes the sentence for Doyoung. “But gees, You can’t even walk with those shoes, shouldn’t you think about wearability first?”

“…How do you know I always buy shoes of a smaller size?” Doyoung pulls an incredulous face, noticing Jaehyun starts avoiding eye contact.

“I…”, Jaehyun stutters, casting his mind back to two months ago.

* * *

_“Shut up and kiss me.”_

“Are you really…” wonders Jaehyun.

Doyoung simply cuts him off by kissing his lips. Jaehyun quickly reciprocates; he inches forward, tips his chin just a bit and slides the nib of his tongue without patience, one hand coming up to Doyoung’s neck and hair, another caressing Doyoung’s collarbone as if it is the finest of silk. His heart rate quickens, and he can tell Doyoung’s breath go fast.

“Quick,” Doyoung whispers in Jaehyun’s ear and bites his earlobe. Jaehyun flips him over before he knows how it happens and buries his head into Doyoung’s neck, with his hand roving all over the other’s body. Every piece of clothing becomes a hindrance, and they solve the problem within seconds.

Except for Doyoung’s shoes.

“I can’t…,” Doyoung mutters.

“I’m sorry,” Jaehyun instantly sits up straight, “I thought you…”

“No, I mean,” Doyoung mumbles, almost out of breath, “I can’t take off my shoes.” He reaches to his heel but struggles to remove the leather pairs.

“Let me help,” Jaehyun offers. He pulls the shoe off from Doyoung; instantly, the older release a gentle moan, followed by intermittent hisses.

“Gosh. That’s such a large scratch,” Jaehyun discovers, “what happened?”

“Smaller shoes make me look taller,” Doyoung pants softly, as if he’s melting into the sofa, “so I bought shoes that are one size smaller.”

“Nonsense,” Jaehyun chuckles.

“No,” Doyoung lisps, breathing heavily as he pulls Jaehyun close to him, “the more I wear the comfy the shoes will get, and my legs…”

“ _Shhhhhh_ …” Jaehyun places his index on Doyoung’s lips as he hovers about the older.

Doyoung swears the stare from the younger’s eyes could set everything on fire, and he wonders how much he wants to kiss those lips. And he did, the open-mouthed kiss is fiery, flooding Doyoung’s senses. He relishes the way their bodies are melting into each other.

Jaehyun’s all business then, undoing Doyoung’s pants, pulling them off, kissing Doyoung from his toes upward, slowly, with both hands on the Doyoung’s legs, always just a little higher than the kisses.

Doyoung feels his back arch in anticipation, knowing where this is leading to. The cold room already feels warm. Jaehyun becomes the only man on earth for him, the only one who can breathe fire into him in this bitter winter.

“Is this okay?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

He could feel Jaehyun’s grip on his shoulder, and how Jaehyun timely adjusts his hips thrust to his own moan. It’s hard for either back to hold back, but both also relish to make the moment last.

“I’m close…” Doyoung whimpers.

“Me too.”

Their tongues entwined in a kiss again. In seconds Jaehyun’s body tenses up, breath hitching in his throat, fingers curl and dig into Doyoung’s skin.

“I…”

There is a white flash of heat that Doyoung can concurrently see and feel, a sudden bursts of warmth blast inside him. Doyoung soon follows, and the euphoria overwhelms all his senses as his hips stutter. He gasps for air, his mind spirals, flying, until Jaehyun catches him by his waists and hauls him back to the sofa.

* * *

“You are the one who asked me to take off your…,” Jaehyun hesitates, “shoes.”

“ _Shut up_ ,” Doyoung slaps Jaehyun gently, “anyway, I gotta go back to my boutique.”

“Doyoung, wait,” Jaehyun starts suddenly, hand on Doyoung’s sleeve, “do you want to grab some food?”

“…why?”

“Cause, um,” Jaehyun blabbers, “you didn’t finish your lunch?”

“No, I did not, thanks to your sudden call,” Doyoung confirms, “but I got leftover in my boutique.”

“At least let me see you back,” Jaehyun tries valiantly, “I… I’ll pay for the taxi.”

“No,” Doyoung rejects staunchly, “If I’m going to take a taxi anyway, what’s the point of getting this new pair of shoes for you?”

Jaehyun shrugs, “I just to make sure you don’t put on those that harm yourselves?”

“We’ll take the bus,” Doyoung insists.

“We?”

“Are you coming with me or not.”

Doyoung tells himself: they’re taking the bus for the cheaper fare, not because it’s a longer trip, and that means slightly more time to spend with this surprisingly lovely person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading ^^


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